


Beckon

by ubercharge



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Scout, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Oneshot, Sexual Content, Top Medic, answered prompt, ctf_2fort, i still love this tag. fight me, thigh highs, wtf is the bj tag?? is my thing just broken or
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ubercharge/pseuds/ubercharge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot days on 2Fort are the opposite of fun, especially when there are Sentry nests to contend with on the way to the intel. Work is annoying sometimes. Scout would much rather stand around, because going out to fight requires a lot of effort! Naturally, wherever Scout goes, trouble and amusement tend to follow - especially when a certain enemy mercenary is out and about, looking for <i>entertainment.</i></p><p>[written as an answered prompt/gift for <a href="http://bisexual-legislature.tumblr.com">emmy</a>!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beckon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bisexual-legislature](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bisexual-legislature).



> 1\. I have a fondness for one-word titles because they sound, like, refined, or shit.  
> 2\. Thigh highs are important and good. I don’t think I have a single close friend who would even deign to disagree with this fact.  
> 3\. [Emmy](http://bisexual-legislature.tumblr.com) said to me, and I (roughly) quote (Snapchat doesn’t exactly let you view previous logs), “if you write the filth, I’ll draw it”. This was after we had a brief discussion about Scout NSFW and abuse. This was also not the _first_ time we’ve had such a discussion, and to be honest, I doubt it’ll be the last.  
>  4\. With much love from both of us, enjoy.
> 
> [[Tumblr post for this shining piece of trash](http://kittekissen.tumblr.com/post/120470108340/tf2-scoutspy-pwp-oneshot)]

It was a hot day. Not as hot as on the Badlands, back in the desert, but the sun was out and it was merciless, even though the clock had yet to strike noon. The damn water under the bridge on mid point was tepid. At least on the surface, where it reflected all the sunlight. Sometimes, giblets and floating limbs would decorate the water.

Just a typical day on 2Fort.

Scout was lounging on the snipe deck up top. Yeah, he was supposed to be out and about, but he was _tired_ of running around. He’d only respawned five minutes ago, and he thought he deserved a little break, standing sentry on the deck even though the only merc there with him was Sniper.

Sniper, who, unlike Scout, was in the sunlight so as to allow him a view of the RED side of the map. Scout was leaning against the wall, behind the sheets of corrugated metal propped up against wooden beams that provided protection from little more than the enemy Sniper. To one side was the respawn room, and the other, Sniper muttering to himself.

Scout was hardly paying attention to the battle, and all he was really keeping track of at the moment was that both teams had scored two captures each out of three.

He bounced his baseball on the floor a few times, then tossed it up and caught it. He kicked a beer bottle to the side and sighed loudly. None of his actions caught the attention of Sniper to his side, who was enraptured by whatever he saw in his scope.

Frankly, Scout was offended. He liked having others pay attention to him and he turned his head to start the conversation himself.

His eyes widened when he spotted the bright red dot of light on the wall.

“Snipes-”

Scout wasn’t even able to finish with his warning before he was spattered with gore and a fine mist of crimson blood.

“Ugh, gross!” he cried, shaking his head free of the brain matter. He spat out his teammate’s blood. It wasn’t the first time he’d tasted blood on the battlefield, of course, but it didn’t exactly get easier or any more pleasant as time went on.

He was put on alert at the sound of an explosion behind him, in the hayloft in front of respawn's door.

Soldier stomped out onto the snipe deck. His helmet was askew and there was some debris on his blue coat but he looked otherwise unharmed.

“What happened?” Scout asked, trying to look like he hadn’t been standing around just to witness Sniper get sniped.

“Thought there was a Spy around here,” Soldier replied, sounding gruff and irritated as he tended to.

“Aaand there isn’t?” Scout asked, squinting.

Soldier hefted his rocket launcher, stepped out onto the deck. “He might’ve cloaked,” he said, before rocket jumping away.

“Thanks,” Scout muttered with a roll of his eyes. Well, the possibility of the RED Spy lurking around was enough to get him moving. But... no. No, no, somebody else could take care of the issue, right? He knew Engineer was set up in the intelligence room, with Pyro at his side for the express purpose of spychecking.

Scout shrugged, because he was more or less sure they’d be fine. A loud gunshot sounded. From none other than the enemy Sniper, it was easy to tell. Scout darted out onto the snipe deck to see if Soldier had been headshot mid-jump.

Not quite, though one of his arms had been hit. Red blood was blooming on the sleeve already. Scout shoved his baseball in a large pocket and pulled out his trusty Scattergun.

“Incoming!” Scout yelled, more to help deter the RED Sniper than to warn anyone of his presence.

He leapt into the air, slipping out of the blissful coolness of shadows, and landed firmly on the roof over the bridge. He could see the RED Sniper, scope to his aviators, standing diagonal from where his teammate had been sniping from earlier.

“Eat my bullets, fuckhead!” Scout taunted, easily making the jump from the roof to the RED snipe deck. The Sniper tried to retreat once he realized what a bad idea it had been to stay outside when a Scout was approaching, but he didn’t even make it halfway to RED respawn before the bullets pierced his lungs.

“Hey Soldier, did’ja see that?” Scout asked, laughing. But Soldier wasn’t on the bridge roof anymore; he’d dropped down, presumably for health. Scout pouted. Was a bit of praise and attention so much to ask for from his team?

Scout kicked at the enemy Sniper’s corpse. A pool of blood was forming beneath it, so Scout figured it was an ideal time to either push or retreat. On the bright side, he knew where the RED Engineer’s nest was, since his previous death had been by his level 3 Sentry gun. The set-up was, predictably enough, in the intelligence room.

“You come here to stand around, or are you gonna fight?”

Scout whipped around and fired, missing completely. His opposite was standing right there, looking calm in his obnoxious red and gold-striped beanie.

“How d’you wear that garbage when it’s ninety degrees out?” Scout asked, pulling out his bat.

 _”You’re_ wearin’ a hood, buddy,” RED Scout pointed out, nodding towards the BLU’s hood and cap. He brought out his own melee weapon, a spiky wooden bat - the Boston Basher.

“Hood’s not the same as your stupid beanie when the hood’s attached to my shirt,” Scout countered.

“Did’ja just call my hat _stupid?_ You’re really askin’ for it, aren’tcha?” RED Scout growled.

Scout smirked. “‘S been a boring day and I ain’t had many chances to insult your team’s lame hats.”

RED Scout glared at him, his gaze filled with venom. “Yeah, I’ll show you how a _real_ Scout fights.”

He swung his bloody spiked bat, and was blocked by the metal one. The Scouts’ weapons clashed against each other, metal to metal to wood and back again.

“Don’t get cocky,” the BLU warned.

“Tell that to yourself, kiddo,” RED Scout countered. He brought his arm back, swung, and managed a successful hit on his enemy.

“Ah, _fuck!”_ Scout cursed, rearing back. Four long scratches wrapped around his side, two along his ribcage, two along his waist, tearing through his shirt and staining it that hateful blood red. The wounds were nasty; already bleeding a copious amount, with waves of pain flowing from them as freely as the blood.

RED Scout stepped up to the BLU, and grabbed his chin roughly.

“‘Least you tried, huh?” he asked, giving a shit-eating grin for effect.

“Let _go_ of me!” Scout snarled, clutching his wet gashes as he tried to wiggle free.

“Whatever you say, pally,” RED Scout replied. He dropped his bat. Quicker than his opposite could respond, he grabbed the BLU’s shoulders, and shoved him off the snipe deck with both hands.

“Aw crap, aw crap!” was all the BLU Scout managed to say before hitting the ground hard. “Fucking bastard! This hurts!” he hissed, struggling to his feet. He was very lucky there were no enemies right outside of the RED building, or else he certainly would’ve been killed.

As it was, he managed to flop into the water - still lukewarm from the heat, it seemed - and swim weakly towards his side’s pipe and sewer system. Scout thanked the Administration a thousand times over that the ‘sewers’ weren’t actually used as sewers. Even then, they were damp and generally not the funnest places to be in, even if they helped with surprise attacks on the enemies.

At least the bleeding was slowing.

“Health health health, _c’mon,”_ Scout groaned, splashing his way towards the little room down the pipe where he knew there was a bit of health and ammo.

When he got there, the health was gone. Actually, the ammo box was missing too, just to add insult to literal injury.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Scout asked. The cool sewer air, smelling vaguely of smoke, did not respond.

Wait. He recognized that acrid scent.

“Spy?” Scout guessed.

 _Wait,_ but which Spy was it? Was he still there?

“Show your freakin’ face before I bash your head in with my bat ‘cause I am _not_ in the mood to fuck around,” Scout called, looking around for a hint of the Frenchman.

“My, my,” a smooth, accented voice sounded from the shadows. “Aren’t we a bit riled up now?”

Scout narrowed his eyes, trying to determine from where exactly the voice had come from. He gripped his bat in a dripping wet, white-knuckled hand. He was annoyed, partially at himself for not being able to tell if the Spy was friendly or not.

“Quit playin’ games, just show your fuckin’ face, you snake-”

Scout hardly got the last word out before a gloved hand was around his throat, cutting off his air supply with ease. An arm from behind him went around his chest to restrain him further. He glanced down to see the sleeve, red and pinstriped. At that, he dropped his bat. 

Fuck. Scout was starting to regret not having just gotten down to actual business _before_ Sniper got sniped. Maybe then he wouldn’t be in his situation, bleeding in the arms of the enemy where it was unlikely help would come.

“What’d’you want?” Scout choked. The blood loss and lack of air did not help him as he grew lightheaded.

Leather-clad fingers started stroking his throat and despite the squeeze of the RED’s accursed hands, the gesture was oddly erotic.

“I came here for the intelligence, _mon petit lapin,_ but as it turns out, my teammates are unable to utilize an Übercharge appropriately. I did not escape the Sentry unscathed. As I am sure you can infer by now, I was going to make another attempt at destroying your Engineer’s nest.”

The Spy smiled to the back of Scout’s head.

“It seems I will have to deal with _you_ first,” he said, his voice dipping down and getting so quiet that Scout wouldn’t have heard it had the Spy not been right behind him.

“Just - _kgh_ \- kill me already!”

Spy removed his hand from Scout’s throat, and the runner coughed several times.

“You are injured,” he stated.

“Yeah, wasn’t it obvious?!” Scout retorted. “Woulda freakin’ killed you by now if it weren’t for your team’s goddamn Scout and if you didn’t take the health over here!”

“What, did he shoot you?” Spy asked mockingly. He took hold of Scout’s chin, though less rough than the RED Scout had done so earlier.

“No,” Scout replied. “He got me with his Basher, on my freakin’ side.”

Spy’s interest was peaked and one of his fingers slipped into Scout’s mouth.

“Get your finger outta my mouth!” Scout cried, jerking his head away.

Spy didn’t let him, instead gripping his chin even tighter and quietly relishing the feel of Scout’s tongue pushing against the digit. But that could wait, what with the runner growing impatient in his arm’s hold.

He pressed himself against Scout’s back and felt, with his free hand, along Scout’s side, raw and bloody. The touch stung.

Scout yelped, trying yet again to struggle his way out of the situation and failing. Spy’s touch was light, but against fresh wounds, the pain was blinding upon the skin on leather contact.

The runner stammered something, a plead for mercy, perhaps, when the fingers were removed.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Scout gasped, quivering.

“You can try.” Spy's words were an electrifying whisper to the ear.

Scout gathered his strength. This was not the first time he’d been put in a situation where his health was running low and he was on the brink of passing out. This was not the first time he’d been put to the test. He grabbed Spy’s arm across his chest with both of his bandaged hands, dug his nails in, and threw Spy off of him. Or at least to the side.

Unfortunately for Scout, the RED still stood between him and the health, which had regenerated. It rotated slowly, teasing him.

“Not bad,” Spy commented, straightening his tie.

Scout didn’t even have a few choice cuss words to give before he aimed a punch... and missed. Spy stepped to the side, and as Scout followed through with the swing, he stumbled. For the brief moment he was hunched over, just a bit, Spy jabbed his back with a well-aimed elbow.

Scout gave an undignified squawk and fell, catching himself with wet, bandaged palms slapping against the floor. He shivered as he stood up again, not without considerable effort. He could taste blood. Whether that was from the remains of Sniper, or his nose, or his teeth, he didn’t know.

All he could focus on was Spy’s half-smile. Was that pity in his eyes, or was Scout just so far gone he was already dead and dreaming in the respawn process? Either way, he was filled with a fresh shot of anger and frustration. The health was _right_ there, and if he could just reach it...

Spy kicked his shin. Not very hard, but enough to make Scout stumble backwards.

“You really are off your game, lapin,” he said.

“Half-dead and you’re gonna insult me?” Scout spat. “‘S what a Spy would do, i’nnt it?”

“Mais oui,” Spy laughed.

“Shoot me,” Scout challenged. “Or stab me. I’m freakin’ tired of this.”

There was a pause, thick and heavy like a breath being held in the midst of tension.

Scout’s arms relaxed slightly, wondering if Spy was actually paying attention to him. He was about to speak again when the Frenchman lunged forward, pinning him to the wall. The force of the impact reverberated through his body. He groaned at the pain in his side.

There was a knife at his throat, a hand on his shoulder, and a knee to his crotch.

“You let your guard down too easily.”

“You move too fast.”

Spy cocked his head. “This, coming from a Scout?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“Whatever,” was all Scout could think to say. His mind was hazy and his thoughts were loose, disconnected from reason and common sense. Which would help to explain his next course of action: trying to talk some more.

“Why’re you try’na keep me alive, huh? Gonna use me as some kinda meat shield against Truckie’s Sentry gun? Hold me hostage? Be pretty sick of you to do that, but I wouldn’t put it past a Spy. Hey, tell ya what, if you lemme go, I’ll play along. I’ve been told I’m a pretty good actor.”

"Non," Spy responded. "As tempting as that offer is, I must admit I'm already tiring of today's battle. Your sudden appearance - perhaps 'sudden' is too generous; you crashed into this room - is the most interesting thing to happen so far."

"So what're you sayin'? You gonna torture me to death?"

Spy smiled. His eyes were cold but there was a look in them that sent shivers down Scout's spine and it wasn't from the lingering physical pain nor the chill of the damp sewers.

"What am I saying? I'm saying you should explain yourself before I am tired of communicating with the enemy."

"Explain _what?"_ Scout demanded.

"This," Spy replied softly, his eyes narrowing as one of his gloved hands made its way down Scout's chest, abdominals, and-

 _"Ohhhh, fuck,"_ Scout moaned as the RED's hand stroked his hard-on through his pants.

"Do you enjoy being beat up?" Spy asked, practically purring the question.

"N-no! I just... ohh god oh fuck! God I'm so freakin' sore a-and everything hurts but..."

 _But it feels so_ good. _Why? Why the fuck am I enjoying this?!_ Scout thought, biting his lower lip.

"Look at me," Spy commanded.

Scout opened his eyes and looked at Spy, who was staring at him real intense and with purpose.

"Your sexual frustration must be severe for you not to have run off by now."

Scout blinked. "Haven't jacked off for almost a week," he admitted, reflexively tipping his lower half towards Spy and grinding on his thigh. "But I'm still gonna kill you."

Spy punched him. In the face, no less. He backed up so Scout could fall to the floor.

"Gotta admit I deserved that one," Scout laughed. He hiccuped and blood ran down his chin. A quick peek upwards showed him Spy's open disgust.

And yet, Scout wasn't discouraged. He was halfway standing up when he forced himself towards the health kit, falling on it. As soon as he touched it, he felt a rush run through his body, rejuvenating him.

"Clever," Spy said, not moving as Scout stood back up.

"Really? Ya think so?" Scout scoffed, his questions only semi-rhetorical.

"Bien sur. Come and kill me."

"Oh, I can do that," Scout said, chuckling a bit.

"...Do what?"

Scout's answer was to lunge forward and pin the Frenchman to the wall, reversing their positions. Spy looked somewhat taken aback, but he didn't flinch from the sudden assault.

He was far more startled when Scout kissed him. There were traces of blood in Scout's taste but Spy wasn't afraid to push back, revelling in the feel of their tongues pressing against each other.

Scout broke the kiss with a gasp.

"Come," he said, answering Spy's question. "I can do that."

Spy grabbed him by the hips so hard he could feel the throb of his not-quite-fully-healed Basher wounds. Of course, the health kit hadn't been enough to fix him up proper. Spy easily had the upper hand in terms of health. At least Scout had his courage.

"Will you?" Spy asked, eyes flashing.

"Yeah." Scout didn't sound as boastful as he often liked to, but he did sound certain.

Spy pulled Scout off of him to press him to the wall again. He pushed Scout by the hips and kissed his neck.

"You'll have to _earn it,"_ Spy whispered.

He brought his knee up to its position between Scout's legs. The runner whined, desperate for some blessed friction, and grinded against Spy's thigh again.

"Mm... Excited, aren't you?" Spy murmured, his breath hot against exposed skin.

Scout writhed, feeling a hand on his back, under his shirt. Pressing against bruises acquired from falling off the RED snipe deck.

"Please..." Scout breathed, not even specifying what he was begging for as Spy gave him even more bruises to contend with, on his neck. His bandaged hands grasped the back of Spy's suit jacket.

The rogue removed his hands to take the jacket off, and Scout let go of him so he could do so. Spy took it off and dropped it on the floor in one fluid movement before resuming his ministrations.

Scout's neck was tender and a sensitive spot, judging by how much the runner was panting.

"Tell me what you want," Spy said, nipping at Scout's neck.

Scout's eyes fluttered open. "Lemme suck you off," he said breathlessly.

Spy backed away from Scout's neck to look at him. He'd been expecting a request for Scout's own pleasure, not the other way around.

"Please," Scout added, that deliciously high-pitched whine creeping into his voice.

"Yes," Spy said, giving a quick nod.

That was all Scout needed to hear before he dipped down and got on his knees. His fingers, still wet, were clumsy undoing Spy's belt and trousers, but he managed. He didn't bother pulling them off.

"Ohh fuck," Scout mumbled. "Oh fuck _yes."_

He rubbed a hand against Spy's erection, feeling it through his underwear.

Above, Spy tossed over a few words of satisfaction.

"This is a good day. Today is a good day," Scout declared, mostly to himself as he freed Spy's cock from its fabric confines. Yeah, he was beat up and still bleeding a little, but life could be worse.

"Mmn," Spy replied, biting down on his knuckle.

Scout stroked him a few times, firm and slow. But he wasn't about to sit there and tease Spy with his hand when the two were in a place anyone could walk by, unlikely as that was. The air was colder than up top, yes, making it a decent place to be, but it was musty and last Scout checked, Demo was camping the route to the sewer...

Spy moaned.

Scout's tongue had trailed down the length of Spy's cock, from the top to the base, but he pulled back to tell the man, "Shhh!"

Spy didn't reply to the warning, just gripped the top of Scout's hat, prompting him to take it and the headset off.

"Hey, Spy?" Scout asked, almost shyly.

"Oui?"

"Can... can you maybe uh, take the gloves off?"

Spy looked down to see Scout peering at him, inquisitive, dick in hand.

"...Yes, of course."

Spy brought his knuckles away from his mouth and bit down on the tip of one glove's finger to remove it. Slowly. Not breaking eye contact with Scout the whole time. He tossed it on top of his suit jacket, and the other glove soon followed.

Scout blushed harder and resumed, pressing tongue to hot, sensitive skin once more. Spy muffled his noises by biting down on his hand again. He ran his other hand through Scout's brown hair, feeling water mixed with sweat and blood.

Scout pulled back, catching his breath, slumped against the wall. He gave another long lick, this time along the underside. He stuck his left hand in Spy's underpants to rub his balls with a palm.

"Doin' okay so far?" Scout asked.

Spy was breathing hard. He didn't bother asking if the BLU on the floor was asking about him or about how well he was performing the blowjob.

"Oui, yes, very."

"Alright, good 'cause I'm gonna step it up," Scout said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Scout leaned forward, taking as much of Spy's length in his mouth as possible before gagging and retreating.

Spy cursed in French as Scout allowed him to recuperate from the sudden deepthroat, contenting himself with sucking on the head and tasting pre-cum.

"Get up," Spy said, gasping.

Scout did so and the expression on his face was downright shameless. He took his hand out of Spy's pants to press it to his hip instead.

"Give me your hand," Spy said.

Scout didn't let go of Spy's cock with his right, stroking lazily, so he offered the RED his left.

Spy whipped a balisong out of his pants pocket, unfolded it quickly.

"Whoa, Spy, what're you-?" Scout didn't get to finish his question before Spy pressed his fingers together so there were no gaps between the digits.

Then he kissed Scout's fingertips, rendering him speechless and flustered. He worked the knife behind the bandage wrap, and cut it off.

"Other hand."

Scout removed his right hand from Spy's dick and allowed the other wraps to be cut off, too.

"Now," Spy said, a note of hunger clear even in the one syllable. "Let me take you."

"Here?" Scout asked, feeling bare hands on his hips, making their way to his belt.

"Yes. Turn around for me."

Scout turned, acutely aware of the fact he was exposing his back to the enemy RED Spy who had a knife in hand. Scout felt tingles go up his spine. Before he could ask what Spy was aiming to do, the flat of the knife's blade was against his throat, so cold it made him gasp. 

"If you tell anyone about this, I will not be kind."

Scout could feel the blade restricting his airflow. He did not object the sensation. To show Spy his act of fellatio was more than an elaborate ruse, he pressed his ass to Spy's crotch.

"Spy do you really think I'm gonna blab to my teammates about this?" Scout laughed, quietly against the blade. "Nah, this is the most fun I've had in ages. Are you gonna keep goin' or what?"

The blade was removed before Spy responded. Scout had honestly been half expecting for the rogue to just save himself some trouble and use the knife the way it was meant to be used, but no.

Something was being pressed to Scout's wrist.

"It's synced to mine," Spy explained, strapping the Cloak and Dagger watch on. "If anyone comes by for health or an ammunition refill, I will activate the invisibility. We should not be disturbed on this side of the room."

"Sounds good to me," Scout said. The hands to his belt buckle returned.

"Wait!" Scout exclaimed, reaching back to grab Spy's forearm.

"I'm uh... you don't have to take my pants off. N-not all the way."

"Why not, lapin?"

"I'm sorta wearin', um, something you might not wanna, uhm..."

"It cannot be worse than being covered in urine. Nor can it be worse than my team's Scout, with his silly gold-painted hat."

"I told 'im it was dumb! Anyway that's... that's not it, 's not really the same, I mean. But I s'pose you can go for it if you want."

Spy took Scout's pants off.

_"Oh."_

Scout's face was burning up, red as a cherry as he stared at the wall. He turned back around when he felt Spy running a bare hand up and down his inner leg. Feeling the border and general area around it, of Scout's exposed thigh and the thigh high socks he was wearing.

They were white, with two light blue stripes at the top - for team representation, of course.

"Should I take them off?" Scout asked, sounding genuinely unsure.

"No." Spy's harsh whisper was against Scout's ear again.

"So you like-"

"Keep them on, lapin."

Spy took a bottle out of his dress shirt's chest pocket, followed by a wrapped condom, which he placed between Scout's teeth. Carefully, of course.

"Hold this."

It was all Scout could do, was bite down on the corner of the wrapper and pretend that Spy's fingers grazing against his lips didn't just make him ten times harder.

"Do you always go to battle this prepared?" Scout managed to ask.

"Oui. You never know, and old habits, as they say, die hard."

Spy pressed two lubricated fingers against Scout's entrance.

"Go slowly, please, Spy, it's been awhile since I've..." Scout shook his head.

Spy rested his chin against Scout's shoulder. He brought one hand around the runner's front to rub his hard-on through his boxers, just like Scout had done to him.

"Nngh, Spy..."

"Just relax," Spy guided, opening him slowly.

Scout could still feel the echoes of sore bruises on his body, but he tried his best to relax, breathing in and out, dealing with the intrusion.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Scout asked, giving a breathless laugh as he gripped the wall with a hand.

"I have," Spy confessed, capping the bottle and putting it back in his pocket.

"Who?"

"...You wouldn't believe me even if I told you the truth."

Scout decided to leave it at that. Just as well, because Spy was adding another finger, making the runner squirm.

Scout's injuries weren't getting any better but the health pack was on the other side of the little room and he didn't want to grab it. Besides, the pain was growing pleasurable.

"Compliment me."

The sudden question caught Spy off guard. "Quoi?" he asked.

"Compliment me," Scout repeated, a bit more insistent this time even with the condom between his teeth. "Lie to me if you have to, I don't care. Just compliment me."

Spy nibbled on his ear before replying, "You have a nice ass."

Scout laughed. "Real classy, Spy."

"An amusing bit of sarcasm from you when I am literally about to make love to you."

Scout bit his lip, turned his head, and locked gazes with Spy.

"Then get to it. Pound town’s right around the corner,” he said, grinning wide.

Spy rolled his eyes and responded, “I don’t know how you say these things with fingers up your arse.”

Scout wiggled his ass a little. “Don’t underestimate me,” he said.

“I will punch you in the face again. You have no class.”

Scout got a laugh out of that, partially because Spy’s words tickled against his ear. “I ain’t a classy person like you are, Spy, with your fancy outfit and shit. But I did kinda just get to suck your dick so where does that put me, huh?”

Spy pursed his lips. “Touché,” he said. His hand that was not currently occupied with Scout’s ass went and pressed against the runner’s side with its half-healed Basher wounds.

“Spy, please,” Scout huffed, feeling the tingling pain return, this time mingled with the heat in Spy’s fingers.

“Please?” Spy asked, biting the back of Scout’s neck, making him clutch the wall again.

“It feels - _nngh_ \- really... I don’t know. Stop. Wait! Wait, no, don’t stop.”

Spy stopped anyway, just to receive a lovely frustrated groan from Scout.

“Hey I told’ja you didn’t have to stop,” Scout said, turning as he felt Spy’s chin lift from his shoulder.

Spy’s gaze was focused downwards as he fetched the bottle of lubricant again. His eyes flicked upwards and at the sight of that, Scout turned back to the wall, blushing furiously. Stupid Spy and his stupid nice blue eyes and...

“Spread your legs,” Spy said.

“I- okay,” Scout stammered, doing as told. He shut his eyes tightly and felt Spy’s hand return, going up his side before making its way to his mouth to remove the condom.

“Oh god, oh god, I dunno if I’m... fuck,” Scout whispered.

“We don’t have to,” Spy said, even as he gripped the wrapper in slick fingers and tried to open it.

“Don’t- don’t you freakin’ dare stop now, Spy, or so help me,” Scout replied quickly. “Y’know you don’t even have to use the, the uh, condom.”

“Easier clean up without respawn,” Spy said.

Scout supposed that made enough sense. At least, it made more sense than the implication that Spy wasn’t going to send him to respawn. He went ahead and kicked his pants off from around his ankles. As soon as he did that, Spy picked up his leg, hand behind the runner’s knee.

For a moment, Spy just stared. The thigh high socks did _everything_ to make Scout look better and it was a satisfying sight. Spy yanked Scout’s shirt up and Scout bit down on the fabric to hold it.

“We’re gonna get caught,” Scout said through his shirt, feeling the press of Spy’s head to his entrance as he guided his cock in.

“I don’t get caught,” Spy replied, easing his hips upward. “Why else would I be a Spy?”

“Ah! God, slow down!” Scout hissed. “Wait, not that slow, just keep going.”

Spy pecked the back of Scout’s neck and rested his hand that was not holding the runner’s leg on his hip.

“I don’t think I can handle - _hah_ \- any more than that,” Scout said, wincing slightly.

“One more inch.”

“Okay, okay, just go slowly, please?”

“Breathe.”

Scout exhaled loudly, his chest shuddering with his uneven breaths.

“There you go,” Spy said, nuzzling the back of his hair a bit. Besides the musk and the smell of battle - gunpowder, blood - Scout smelled like soap. None too subtle, either, because it was still prevalent over sweat, which was puzzling. It made Spy wonder about the Scout’s showering habits.

“I’m good,” Scout said as his body adjusted. “You can... um, you can start now, I guess.” He looked back, face still flushed, both hands on the wall. Dripping wet between the legs. He was in a vulnerable position and he knew it.

Spy leaned forward and kissed him. When Scout was facing the wall again, more or less braced for impact, Spy slammed back in so hard that Scout was shoved against the wall with a shout.

“Oh god oh god oh god!” he cried as he reeled at the jarring mix of pain and pleasure. He could feel his bare chest being scraped by the unyielding wall, his shirt held up by being pressed to it, and his dog tag chain digging into his clavicles.

Spy adopted a relatively fast, though steady pace. Scout wasn’t expecting it. His thoughts were a mix, all in disarray. He wanted to ask Spy to slow down but the throbbing in his cock was distracting him as he leaked pre-cum on the floor.

When Spy pressed his hand to Scout’s exposed ribcage, the runner almost lost it. Because before, Spy had been rather gentle with the wounds, but now his fingers were digging into flesh for purchase, and the thrusting didn’t make the touch any lighter.

“Please! Please, oh fuck! Spy, you- _fuck!”_

Besides the panting and occasional soft moan, Spy was relatively quiet. Maybe that was his thing, but in any case, he replied to Scout, “Je vais vas te faire encule jusqu’à ce que tu ne peux pas marcher.” His French words were a harsh growl.

“Wh-what does that even mean?” Scout asked as he clawed at the wall, desperate for something to hold onto.

 _”I am going to fuck you until you can’t walk,”_ Spy translated, biting down on Scout’s neck hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh god ooh god, fuckin’ hell,” Scout said before he started to whimper.

The wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the pipes. Scout’s tantalizing little noises also carried.

“Spy?” he asked, squeaking the word.

“Oui?”

“Can you... take off the - _hn_ \- condom?”

Scout turned to make eye contact as he asked, but his gaze flicked down to the floor. Spy slowed.

“Right now?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” Scout gulped. “If you want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want to... feel... you,” Scout replied, his words dropping to a mumble at the end of the sentence and his hands clenching against the wall.

Spy gave a soft chuckle and let Scout’s leg down.

“Wait,” Scout said. “Can I?”

“Go ahead,” Spy replied, stroking his fingertips along Scout’s jawline.

Scout removed the condom from Spy’s cock and - “Where do I put it?”

Spy took it, knotted it, and stuffed it in his pocket. “I’ll dispose of it after the round ends.”

Scout nodded before he took his shirt off. Spy decided to follow his example, unbuttoning his dress shirt and loosening his tie.

“Which pocket did you put the, uh, lube in?” Scout asked, licking his lips in anticipation.

Spy raised his eyebrows, but took the bottle out himself and handed it to Scout, who uncapped it with eagerness. He slicked it over Spy’s cock, using more than he thought was necessary.

Spy gave an enticing groan at the handjob, making Scout shiver.

“Is that enough?” Scout asked, handing the bottle back and wiping his hand dry on his shirt before he tossed it on the growing pile of clothes.

“Oui, that will suffice,” Spy replied, dropping the bottle on top of Scout’s blue t-shirt, torn and stained with blood.

Entry the second time around was only a little easier than the first time. Might’ve been even easier had Spy not pushed in so roughly. Soon they were back in action, but this time both of Scout’s feet were on the ground to give him more support.

“How’d we go from fightin’ to this?” Scout asked, gasping as blood-tinted saliva ran down his chin.

“Your boner,” Spy replied. “Very endearing.”

“Guess I’m still a li’l surprised you’d fuck with me - literally,” Scout laughed.

Spy pushed himself in as far as he could go, rolling his hips up for as much penetration as possible. Scout moaned loudly.

“I told you I was in need of entertainment, did I not?”

“You should lemme entertain you more often.”

Spy’s hands on Scout’s hips pushed him forward. Scout could feel the cold against his hard-on and he exhaled sharply.

“Do not think this tryst changes anything.” Spy’s whisper was hot and feverish, lips pressed to Scout’s ear as the runner’s cheek was pressed to the wall yet again.

“You’re so cold, Spy,” Scout said, feeling the fingers dance along his side again. “Fuck me harder.”

Spy obliged, even as he dug his fingertips into Scout’s wounds, beads of blood leaking out.

“Nnh- fuck! Shit, you know how much that _hurts?”_

“Clearly not enough for your erection to go away.”

It was true; Scout’s boner had not flagged even in the slightest, even as it bumped against the wall. Though the cold, hard surface wasn’t the most pleasurable sensation, Scout was still enjoying... everything. He was enveloped in Spy’s scent and swift thrusting.

“Je veux entendre ton crier,” Spy murmured.

“Translation?” Scout asked, moving one of his hands off the wall to stall Spy’s on its path to worsen Scout’s Basher injury. He pressed his hand to Spy’s gloved one, holding it tightly.

“I want to hear your scream,” Spy replied. He slowed down to grab Scout’s leg before resuming his thrusting, but now it was getting obvious he was much closer to the edge. His movements were growing more careless.

Scout could already tell, by the force of Spy’s fucking, that he was going to be very sore if respawn did not patch him up. His hand that had been holding Spy’s slipped off, and he placed it back against the wall because his legs were shaking and he didn’t trust himself to remain upright.

“Deep breaths, lapin.”

Scout was already breathing hard. He felt Spy’s hand lift his head away from the wall, and slip two fingers into his mouth. Scout tasted salt and a hint of blood as he worked his tongue over the skin.

“Cute,” Spy breathed, retracting his hand, saliva trailing from his fingertips.

Scout licked his lips and Spy wiped his hand off on his dress shirt. Then he placed it against Scout’s left hand, on the wall. Without a word, the two interlaced their fingers. The gesture was ironically intimate and Spy carried on, pounding into Scout’s ass.

“Fuck, fuck is this what you consider ‘lovemaking’?” Scout asked, hunched forward as he tried his best to catch his breath in the midst of losing it.

“I adjust what I do to suit my partner,” was Spy’s response. That was not entirely true; he was obviously tiring Scout out far more than himself. Then again, maybe that was just because Scout was still bruised and battered, bleeding somewhat, and, of course, completely melting under his touch.

Scout didn’t even know what to say to that, but it didn’t matter; Spy wasn’t finished yet.

“Turn around,” he said, pulling out and letting go of Scout’s hand.

Scout took a deep breath and turned around. He was sweating even more than he normally did running around in the sun. Fighting and killing didn’t get him nearly as out-of-breath as having sex did.

But obviously having sex brought more pleasure.

Like right now - with Spy kissing his neck again, feeling his racing pulse. He knelt down a little to pick Scout up, and did so with minimal effort.

“Would you like to do the honours?” Spy asked, glancing down and back up again to Scout, who was a little thrown off by the fact he was now being held up. Of course, Spy’s question had been rhetoric; he couldn’t exactly use his own hands.

Scout didn’t assume he was aiming for frottage, even though it was totally viable, what with Scout’s own cock resting against his stomach and all. But he was obedient and reached down to help Spy penetrate him again.

They moaned in unison.

Spy leaned forward to press his lips to Scout’s neck, even though it was already bruised and bleeding. Scout, upon feeling Spy bite down on his very much abused neck, flung his arms around the man and held on for dear life as Spy started thrusting.

Scout let out a bumpy sigh of relief as Spy shifted to work on the other side of his neck, which had sustained a lot less teeth. His sigh turned to loud gasps of pleasure, feeling the friction of his cock between him and Spy. He was probably making a mess with his pre, but he didn’t care; it felt so good. The pain, the pleasure - together - felt sinfully good.

All of the things that Spy was doing to him and making him feel... he wanted to live in this moment forever. Because for the moment, he could forget the war, missing home, and the instinctive fear and apprehension towards the REDs. He felt oddly free, even when he was physically bound to the wall. As if he’d try to break away from his position for some misguided sense of freedom from the enemy.

“Wait,” Spy whispered, slowing his pace.

“What, you boutta cum?” Scout asked, head pressed against Spy’s shoulder. He was exhausted and wasn’t quite ready to wrench himself free just to make eye contact for the conversation.

“I hear someone.”

Scout cursed softly and was about to ask Spy to let him back down when there was a faint, very faint _whoosh_ and a cold prickling sensation washed over him. The Cloak and Dagger watches had been activated, rendering the pair invisible. Thankfully, their uniforms on the floor were also cloaked.

“Spy-”

“Quiet, quiet.”

It would’ve certainly been a lot simpler for Scout to remain quiet had Spy stopped completely, or even better, pulled out and let him back down. But he didn’t. Spy was still inching his hips forward, still going, just not as quickly as before.

Scout would’ve told him to stop had he not just caught the sound of approaching footsteps, splashing in the water-filled pipes. They were uneven.

“Stupid sentry,” a familiar voice grumbled.

The RED Scout was limping towards the room of health and ammo. One of his legs was perfectly intact, but the other was streaming blood, pants bullet-ridden. In fact, his entire left side was bleeding. It was a miracle he’d made it all the way to the little room at all, if he’d come from the BLU intel. Especially because he was leaving a visible trail of red behind him.

“Fuckin’ Sniper had to turn around at the _worst_ fuckin’ time...” the Scout went on. He had plenty to complain about, it seemed, filling the near-silence with his anger.

Scout felt the head of Spy’s cock grind against a spot inside of him he’d been praying would not be touched at a time like this. He avoided screaming by biting down on Spy’s neck, almost tearing his balaclava as he did.

Had a rocket not just been fired from above, Spy’s muffled response would’ve been heard by the Scout. The timing was beyond fortunate.

“Shit,” the RED Scout sighed. He refilled the clip in his gun and tested his leg, soon judging it to be in workable condition. Before long, he was running out, back upstairs into BLU territory.

Loud gunfire followed, along with more explosives detonating, and a fair bit of screaming.

“Is he gone, are they gone?” Scout asked as quietly as he could force himself to be with the excruciatingly slow advance of Spy’s cock still inside of him.

“Oui, I think so,” Spy replied, dropping the cloak. Thanks to their minimal movement, it had hardly been depleted in the first place.

“You hit my prostate,” was all Scout could say. The pleasure was still ebbing through him.

“I was able to tell. You did not climax.”

“Yeah, it was a little hard with that RED fuck here. But I’m really close and you’ve moved so now it’s like you’re edgin’ me but I wanna cum, holy shit, Spy, _please!”_

“Didn’t I tell you already?” Spy asked, giving him a cold grin. “You have to earn it.”

“The fuck does that mean? What do you want me to do?” Scout asked, desperation ringing in his voice.

“Beg for me,” Spy replied, speeding up his thrusting until he was back at the pace he’d been at before the RED Scout had intruded.

“Fuck!” Scout yelped, clinging to Spy’s back again. “Please, Spy, please, I really gotta cum and I think it’s kinda obvious you’re the only one I want to make me do it.”

“More,” Spy growled.

“Aw fuckin’ _hell,_ you’re drivin’ me up the wall here! A-and that wasn’t a pun, neither! Please, please-” Scout paused to let a whine out of his throat. “-Please help me cum, I freakin’ need it and I can’t yet even though it’s been a week since I last did it! Even though I can jack off myself, any time, whenever I want to, it’s not the same a-as fuckin’ you ‘cause holy _shit,_ fuckin’ you in this goddamn war is the best decision I’ve - _ah!_ \- made for a long fuckin’ time!”

Scout’s eyes had been shut tightly throughout his ramble, but now he opened them to see Spy’s reaction.

Spy was watching him closely, noting the redness of his face, the sheen of sweat, and now, his eyes - greyish, hazel.

Beautiful.

Spy opened his mouth to reply when Scout leaned forward to kiss him, hard, hot, needy. The runner’s body was wracked with soreness, and still so much pain and pleasure, but through the fog in his thoughts, he knew what he wanted. And he was determined to hold onto it.

Scout parted just enough for him to give a whimper, then a whisper of a single syllable - _”Spy.”_

As much as he would’ve been fine with not caring at all, against his will, Spy’s heart - cold as one could say it was - skipped a beat, hearing his class name, his alias spoken in such a way.

Scout had him undone with a word.

Spy gave a few more hard thrusts before he was done, over the edge, the brink, the precipice - coming hard into Scout and making the runner yell because he could feel it, the hot spurts of cum filling him up.

And damn the world if it didn’t feel as good as it did.

“Spy, oh fuck, _Spy,”_ Scout gasped, because Spy didn’t stop pounding into him, making him feel the full force of the sticky wetness.

The return of the blade to his throat was a surprise. Not the sharp side, of course, but the flat of it. The cold metal stuck to Scout’s skin and made him want to gag.

“Do not forget that this changes nothing,” Spy said. He was still supporting Scout against the wall with one arm, which was an impressive feat, all circumstances considered.

“Really?” Scout asked, laughing, breathless. Eyes half-lidded, he smiled at Spy. Because frankly, the Frenchman’s threat - if the statement could be called a threat - was hard for Spy to take seriously when Spy was just as red-faced as him, still panting a little. And his dick was still in Scout’s ass.

“Don’t try to scare me, Spy. Not after _this.”_

Spy rotated the blade and cut into Scout’s skin, just far enough to draw a little blood. But then he looked into Scout’s eyes again and had to lower the balisong. Perhaps the knife would not scare Scout, even if it was cutting into bruises and bite marks.

Scout cursed loudly when Spy pressed his hand back to Scout’s side, where smeared blood was drying, and raw skin was still delicate.

“P-please, wait,” Scout gasped. He felt Spy withdraw his hips far enough to pull out, but Scout didn’t need a cock up his ass to get off.

“Tell me,” Spy began. “Tell me what you want.”

Scout was reduced to a mess yet again. “I-I want to cum, Spy! I want _you_ to make me cum, please, Spy, please...”

Spy kissed his cheek lightly. He dropped the knife - it fell with a clatter - and he guided Scout’s hand to his hard-on. Then he let Scout back down on the floor, slowly. The runner was hardly able to remain standing. Spy, his own hand around Scout’s, helped him stroke his cock. Then he took his other hand and brought it back to Scout’s side, pressing it to Scout’s ribcage.

“Spy...”

Spy felt the runner clutch to the back of his shirt and lean into him.

“Spy please...”

“Quoi?” Spy asked.

“C-can I...? Please?”

“Yes. Cum for me.”

Scout tipped his head up to kiss Spy, even harder than before. The taste of blood was almost all gone from his mouth, and he was glad because it meant he could really taste Spy and he loved it, he wanted to keep kissing him.

He felt Spy squeeze his hands, both against his stinging wounds and around his own hand to his cock.

Scout could feel himself nearing his climax. Soon, under the sensual touch and feel of Spy, his pain, his pleasure, everything, the sensations all melded, blinding him until they were indistinguishable from each other. He came hard and his release was made so much sweeter by how long it had been since he’d last ejaculated, but also from how he’d _earned it,_ fucking the enemy Spy. He bucked his hips forward and cried out, stammering gibberish until he left a mess on his and Spy’s torsos.

As soon as Spy let go of him, he collapsed, dropping to the floor and embracing its coolness against his uninjured side.

“Done?” Spy asked, trying to wipe the mess off his front.

“Yeah... yeah, I think so. But uh, don’t think we’re gonna get cleaned up anytime soon unless we can somehow make it to respawn without anyone seein’ us.”

Post-climax, the two could think of few solutions. Spy’s dramatic idea could be excused if one really thought about it and gave him some leeway.

He straddled Scout’s hip and shoved his head to the floor. At the rough treatment, Scout actually moaned.

“It’ll be easier this way,” Spy said, picking his knife up and pointing the tip right over Scout’s pulse.

“Only for you, Spy,” Scout replied, smiling. He reached an arm over to the clothing pile and rooted out his trusty Scattergun, pressing the barrel to Spy’s head.

“Count of three?” Scout suggested, to which Spy nodded.

Of course, the two were on opposite teams; neither of them actually meant it. The knife piercing Scout’s throat was almost immediately followed by the firing of the Scattergun. The cadavers bled out on the floor of the little room in the sewers. A shame, a few passing mercs would think before the two respawned, that one - RED or BLU - had not prevailed over the other. Good thing the blood from Scout's headshot concealed a lot.

When Scout was back in respawn, the room upstairs facing the hayloft, he took a bit of time to look himself over. He could actually feel the soreness from Spy’s rough fucking, but the pain of his other injuries had disappeared, no trace of them remaining - not even scars on his throat or along his side.

Scout lamented the fact he couldn’t keep any souvenir from his little meeting with the RED Spy, but it was probably for the best. Hickies on his neck would’ve been a dead giveaway and marked him as teasing fodder for the team that night, for sure.

A few minutes later, with Scout still sitting on the respawn bench, the Announcer declared the end of the round to be a RED win. And congratulations to the RED Scout for capturing the last briefcase.

Scout shook his head to himself. A shame; if he’d actually tried that round, then maybe he would’ve been able to win for his team. Next round, he’d have to try a little harder, assuming the RED Spy didn’t intercept him in private again...

There was shouting in the distance as Humiliation began, the panic mode taking away the BLUs’ weapons. Scout shook his head, and leaned back on the bench, waiting for a RED to come murder him with their free round-win crits.

Had he been busying himself with hiding or running away, he might’ve missed the opening of the respawn door. Any footsteps that may or may not have been there were muffled by the sounds outside. But it turned out he didn’t need to hear any footsteps when he felt his hand being clasped by another’s, gloved. Not to hold it, but to pass something into his palm before the warm grip was gone.

Scout didn’t get the chance to open his mouth to speak before the door opened and shut again, so he looked down at what he’d been given... and he laughed out loud. What a sweet gesture; the enemy Spy had left him with the half-empty bottle of lubricant.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I find the most pleasure in 2Fort when I’m dicking around on it with friends (like on Doomsday! #nocap) but Emmy likes it unironically (how, I’m not sure) so hey there we go. Easy choice for a setting.  
> 2\. What I unironically enjoy is the ‘mon petit lapin’ thing with Cloak and Batter; it makes me weak. Please give me more Scoutspy with ridiculous pet names.  
> 3\. @god: forgive me  
> 4\. neither 'grinded' or 'unironically' are words according to autocorrect but i suppose i deserve that  
> 5\. [edit: just gonna leave this here](http://bisexual-legislature.tumblr.com/post/105242312469/this-may-have-turned-out-a-tiny-bit-more-nsfwish)


End file.
